


Monthly Visit

by crimsonadvent



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorks, Dragon Age Prompt, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Menstruation, Prompt Fill, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3061757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is ailing the Inquisitor and Cullen wants to help.</p><p>Fill for the Dragon Age Inquisition Prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monthly Visit

She eyed her plate with much hate. At times like these, food was hardly appealing no matter how mouth-watering they were. She poked on the roast with her fork, her appetite nonexistent.

Everyone around her was busy feasting at the bounty they’ve reaped with the words of their victory from the Winter Palace fresh on their lips. Gray eyes surveyed the wide smiles and she tried her best not to dampen the mood.

“Food not good enough for you, Boss?” Iron Bull smacked her shoulder and she winced slightly but returned a friendly jab. “Just a bit tired, Bull. You wouldn’t mind I get off early?”

The Qunari’s eye softened and patted the Inquisitor on the shoulder. “I’m pretty sure everyone will understand, Boss.”

She smiled wryly, getting the notion that her Qunari companion might know a little more than most of the men present do.

She stood up from her seat and the merriment paused, all eyes on her. She raised a hand, the hand and smiled apologetically, “Sorry to cut on the festivities but I’ll be heading back.”

“What? And miss all the fun?” Dorian gasped and everyone else followed suit.

“You sure you want to leave out on a game of Wicked Grace? We’re raising the ante this time.” Varric spoke and eyed the nervous looking Cullen. He was still pretty shaken with his loss.

“You do look a little pale, Inquisitor, perhaps some rest would help you.” Cassandra was on her side and the elven inquisitor was thankful.

“Hate to slip early but I need some shut eye.” She spoke crassly. It was one of the best ways to end a conversation; she’d have Bull to thank that.

With much haste, Lavellan exited the tavern causing Cullen to stand from his seat.

“I’ll look after her.” He spoke with much confidence and proceeded to make his way towards the exit.

“Best have some elfroot potions with you, Curly.” The dwarven writer said and soon his voice joined the rancorous conversation.

He was confused but reminded himself to make a detour to the infirmary for a potion or two.

\--

Lavellan was hunched by the wall; a hand fisted her tunic as she grimaced in pain. She hated these monthly visits, they always rendered her useless.

“I-Inquisitor.” She looked up from her position and found a bewildered Cullen, with a dozen potions in his arms. A worried look crossed his face and he closed the gap between them.

“Commander, fancy seeing you here.” She spoke, pain laced in her voice. In this lighting, the former Templar could see the bags under her eyes or how her jaw tightened. She was in pain and he would do his best to aid her.

“Inquisitor. You look quite ill. Is there any manner I may be of assistance?” He adjusted the potions in his arms and the glass clinked in the silence of the main hall.

The elven woman chuckled but grimaced yet again, “Might you have any knowledge on a woman’s monthlies?” She grasped tightly as another painful wave coursed through her.

“Monthlies?” He was confused, even Varric was cryptic.

“Pain. Pulsing deep. It claws at her inside.” A sudden voice joined them and Lavellan was both shocked and embarrassed. The young man was crouched beside her, a distant look in his eyes, “It hurts but it’s necessary. It’s a comfort and a curse. It’s red. It’s warm but it hurts.”

He stands up and takes hold of her hands, “It hurts. I want to help.”

Lavellan was flushed pink in embarrassment but smiled at the rogue. “It’s all right Cole. I’ll be fine.”

“But it hurts.”

“I’ll be fine. Sleep will help.”

“Yes, yes. Sleep. Sleep will help.” He smiled and suddenly he was gone.

The elven smiled to herself, stifling any whimpers as the pain still ran its course. Her gray eyes went back to her original companion to find his cheeks beet red.

“Commander, are you all right?” She bit her lower lip as a strong wave of pain rushed through her. Cullen was quick on his foot, “I’m all right, Inquisitor but you are the one in pain. Maker, what was I thinking? What was I not thinking?” He had sisters, how daft could he be?

She chuckled; he was adorable in a state of panic. The bottles in his arms jingled and he was jittery. She smiled weakly but a tight grasp on her tunic spelled a lot to the observant man.

“Maker’s breath, I apologize for my insolence.” He spoke in a panicked tone, “Let me accompany you to your quarters, Milady.” A brown brow rose at his endearment, my, was he in a state of panic.

She lead the way, sometimes pausing to grab hold of the railing with her face scrunched up in pain. The blonde man tried to articulate his thoughts but every time he opened his mouth, no words would spill out. He wanted to soothe her but his arms full of potions were hardly any help.

So the two spent a nervous and pained silence towards her quarters.

The moment she reached the last step, Lavellan made a beeline to her bed. She flung herself on the plush covers, soothing the pain by a bit. Cullen hastily laid the bottles on the nearest table and made his way to the fallen woman.

“If you would please, Inquisitor.” He offered a potion and she couldn’t help but whine, she was comfortable with her prone position on the bed. He lets a wry smile flit to his features and tried convincing her, “Even just a sip would make me at ease.”

She huffed and sat up gingerly, “You know how to pull me with your words, Commander.”

“A trait I’ve learned from you, I’m afraid.”

She secretly smiled behind the glass and tipped the potion, downing the concoction in one go. She pursed her lips at the bitter taste but sighed at the warmth it pumped into her veins. The strong pain started to dull and she was grateful.

“Thank you, Cullen. That was wonderful.” He chuckled at that, she only said his name in private. It was his request.

She handed him the empty bottle and gave him a wide smile. A sigh escaped him but he looked relieved, “What I would do without Varric.”

She chuckled, reminding herself to thank Varric the next day, she settled on her pillows. The pain was slowly ebbing away but it was still there. Gray eyes appraised at the awkward stances that Cullen was doing.

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes shifting everywhere. _Maker, he didn't know what to do_.

“Is there any way I can help, Milady?” He was nervous, unsure. Templar training never gave him any insight on this.

“A freshly squeezed lemon juice and some warm towels would be nice.” She joked but Cullen quickly bolted of the room. Lavellan couldn’t help but regret her suggestion.

\--

She didn’t realize when she’d fallen asleep but she woke up to the blanket tucked under her chin; Cullen’s pauldrons were draped on her, providing her more warmth. She pushed herself into a sitting position and found him there, sleeping. He sat upon a stool as his upper body was cradled in a painful position on the bed.

It was terribly dark outside and she wondered how long she’d been sleeping.

The pain was a dull sensation that she could cope now and she had him to thank for. She couldn’t help herself; curious fingers reached out and ran along his jaw. She relished the feeling of his stubble under her touch.

She trailed her hand up and smoothed his curly hair, enjoying the opportunity of having him by her side.

Her joy was short-lived as her touch jolted him awake. He jumped on his seat, eyes surveying the room as a hand reached out to a sword that was not there.

“I-Inquisitor!” He blushed at his stupor, clearly fresh from sleep and embarrassed at his state of undress. He had removed his armor in favor of relaxing. His loose undershirt was unbuttoned at the top, crinkled from his sleep.

She smiled at him and threw her gaze to the table, “I apologize for making you acquire the juice and towels.”

He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully and chuckled, “It is quite all right. I apologize for not being able to come sooner.” He stood up and stretched the kinks out of his body. He’d be sore come morning. “I’m sorry for taking up your bed. I will leave you to your rest, Inquisitor.”

He bowed and was about to leave but she quickly grabbed his hand. His eyes turned to her, swathed in a big blanket with his pauldrons making a furry arc around her small frame.

“Stay.” It was a request. One he would not think twice on accomplishing.

He smiled and let her pull him down to the bed, his arm draped on her small body while she tucked herself in his arms, as if the final piece to make his life complete.


End file.
